His arms reach down around us
Big, bulky and terrifying
His feet are rooted to the spot
Swaying slightly in the breeze
His friends live all around him
And his enemies!
Tall and solid, unmoving
A bunch of brothers akin
A family tree.
To the earth, the ground, the breeze
His coat is of the finest ivy green
Reaching up to his crown
Falling down below gnarled knees
He is the King of the Forest
He is the oak tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Della! wonderful! but why the name of a poem is not oak'?
i might change it, thanks for reading x